Reflection on Luck
by Zane's Girl- Jo
Summary: She was raised Mossad, trained an assassin, but left the only place she felt was home, an American. She left her shattered home, her destroyed family, and faded into the mists, unaware that she was taking the heart of every member of NCIS that she'd touched.


** Reflection on Luck**

**R****if****iuto****: N****on**** Miriena**

**Summary: She was raised Mossad, trained an assassin, but left the only place she felt was home, an American. She left her shattered home, her destroyed family, and faded into the mists, unaware that she was taking the heart of every member of NCIS that she'd touched. **

_Breathe in, remember, this is for the best. You have no other choice_.

She had been through so much in her thirty-one years. Seen so much destruction, so much death, survived time and time again. Something had protected her, be it the Star of David she wore around her neck, the trust she held in others, or the sheer luck of the situations she was placed in- either way, she managed to make it out of every attempt on her life thrown her way.

Tel Aviv, Cairo, Somalia. America.

She'd been in the right place at the wrong time, when the library building had been bombed at Tel Aviv University; a freshman, at only sixteen years of age. Tucked back in the stacks, searching for a book for her research paper when the explosion went off, killing the majority of the other students in the library. She'd walked out of the rubble with a gash on her forehead, a couple broken ribs and a sprained wrist, shocked and horrified; her father had pulled her from the University and sent her to America, to NYU to finish her degree before calling her home and interning her into Mossad at the tender age of nineteen.

Two weeks after the fated September Eleventh attacks.

It had been curiousity that had pulled her, a college graduate to the Twin Towers that fated day. She'd gone up to the mall in the North Tower, and wandered around, taking photographs and gazing wide-eyed at the sheer height of the building. Flight Eleven had struck a little before nine. Ushered from the building, she'd stood on the sidewalk with others, watching as the towers smouldered, burned and soon collapsed. Once her father realized what had happened, he pulled her back to Isreal, refusing to let her set foot in a foreign country unless she was under his thumb.

Upon returning to Isreal, she'd joined Mossad, soon becoming a vital part of what her sister Tali had deemed "their father's army." Ari had been her responsibility. Her brother, and, as children, one of her best friends. She'd followed him to Cairo, where her path had crossed with Agent Jennifer Shepard. A fleeting glance in the local bazaar, a casual bumping into in a restaurant or cafe, sharing the same cab or elevator. And then, their paths had soon merged into one, that stormy August night.

A rare rainstorm had brought her out to the street; she'd stood in the rain, head tilted towards the sky arms out, becoming drenched. Voices had brought her from her silent contentment- the red-haired Agent Shepard she kept running into. Even now, she realized that she'd blocked what actually happened out, save for the when she turned to face the older woman. With a soft nod, she'd returned to her hotel, and it was only then, as she shut the bathroom door and moved to step into the shower, did she catch sight of her image in the mirror- and the blood she was covered in. A mere kid, she'd stripped her bloody clothing off, bagged it, and then stepped within the shower, washing the rest of the evidence down the drain, never knowing, that a few short years later, she'd be back on American soil, working on an NCIS team, under direction of Jenny Shepard.

She'd tailed Ari to America, and as she'd walked into the NCIS offices, the first friendly face she laid eyes on was that of Director Shepard. With two quick kisses to either cheek, she'd silently thanked her for trusting her enough to let her back on American soil. Her welcome by the agents- specifically Gibbs and his team- were less warm, but she'd taken it in stride. She'd tried to help Ari, seeing only the little boy she'd grown up with, not the killer he'd become. And as she'd stood behind the door, listening to Ari and Gibbs talked, she'd began to realize that though they'd been raised Mossad, she and Ari had taken very different paths. Her kills were specific, targeted, unlike her brother's, who were revenge, random. And as she'd stepped onto the landing, raised the gun, and in one swift moment, ended his life, she realized the true monster her father had created.

After explaining her connection to him, she'd accepted Gibbs' silent thank you, before he left. Once gone, she took a seat on a stool and softly sang Hebrew prayers through her tears. From then on, she was tied to the NCIS team.

She'd become a part of their family; eventually, forsaking Isreal and gaining her American citizenship- only to find herself back in her father's clutches, abandoned by Gibbs and the whole of NCIS. Shipped off to Somalia on assignment by her father, she'd found false comfort in the arms of an American Marine on the ship taking her to Africa, but that comfort- even if false- had ended when she found herself captive; the only surviving prisoner of a training terrorist camp. Even now, that time in Somalia was too painful for her to dwell on, and she cast it aside, preferring to remember when she, Gibbs, McGee and Tony stepped off the elevator to applause within the bullpen.

For the first time, she was part of a family, she was loved. Truly and completely.

Her father hadn't been happy when he discovered just how American she had become- accused her of turning her back on her roots, her family, Mossad, her heritage. She'd fired back that she'd turned her back on nothing, on no one but him. Sure, they'd played nice during dinner at the Vance's, until she'd stepped out to call Gibbs and all hell broke loose. Chasing after the killers, she'd returned, only to find Jackie Vance dieing... and hadn't been able to keep the pain-filled scream from escaping her mouth as she laid eyes on her father. Like she'd done to Ari, years earlier, to Tali, that long ago day in Tel Aviv, she'd cradled her father to her chest, sobbing, screaming, choking on the prayers as they struggled to work their way from her lips. For a brief moment, she'd gone from NCIS agent, from Mossad assassin, to heartbroken daughter.

And it had scared her.

Now, she turned her back on those she loved; on the only true family she'd ever known- Gibbs, Tony, Abby, Ducky, McGee... everyone at NCIS that she'd gotten to know over the years. She had no choice but the leave them all behind. Standing in front of the bullpen, she let herself drink in one last look at the place that had been her home, her life.

Silently, she removed the paper from her bag and taped it to the outside of the bullpen, after leaving letters for each on their desks- including one for Abby, Ducky and Jimmy on what had been her desk- a final letter to all of NCIS. A thank you for making her part of their family for the last few years. Then, with one last glance towards the bullpen, she left, stepping into the elevator and riding it down to the parking lot. Once she climbed into her car, she drove off into the night, leaving her past behind, for an uncertain future.


End file.
